


A Bone Of Contention

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cunning Sherlock, EVERYTHING GOES WRONG, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Halloween, Halloween parties, Happy Ending, Injured Sherlock, Messing With Tradition, POV Molly Hooper, Plots Gone Wrong, Poor Molly, Poor Sherlock, Secret Relationship, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Has a Plan, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Sherlock Plots, Sherlock is a Good Boyfriend, Skeletons, St. Barts Hospital, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:26:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8427685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: There is a tradition at Barts that a certain skeleton is brought out at the annual Halloween party. There is also a tradition that every year, it’s stolen. Ever since Molly’s started working at Barts it’s been her job to track it down as best she can and she’s tired of it, so this year she enlists her boyfriend’s help, only it doesn’t work out exactly how she’d hoped it would...





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally a drabble request from my friend **mybrainrots** that I wanted to turn into a full-fledged Halloween fic. The prompt was " _Sherlock + Molly (either romantic or platonic), orange and involving s corpse or skeleton (for Halloween)_." Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

There was a tradition at Barts, during the month of October. At the annual Halloween party, there was a skeleton that Stamford was supposed to haul out for the festivities, one that had been carefully put together out of plaster pieces cast by one of the old master pathologists in the pathology department in the 1890s. It was the pride of the department, and the jewel of the party, because at least a _few_ of the bones may or may not have actually been plaster, as the story went. Or Stamford would try to; it was always nicked come 12:01 AM on October 1st. And then it was up to Molly to try and track it down every time it disappeared.

But this year, she had a plan. And a boyfriend. And said boyfriend was the world’s only consulting detective, who would do anything she wanted for some kisses and the promise of a shag in the evening, so she figured the skeleton could be nicked as often as they wanted. Sherlock would find it.

So long as her co-workers didn’t get crafty this year.

Because God help them if they irritated Sherlock. It would not be pretty _at all_.

**~~~**

“You say they do this every year?” he asked as he checked the securements on the skeleton.

Molly nodded. “Every year. As soon as the first of October arrives, someone sneaks in here to retrieve the skeleton. And I waste precious time each day trying to retrieve it. It’s pointless.” She tied the orange strap tighter. “Are you sure this will work?”

“I have every inch of this office under surveillance, and my brother is allowing me access into the Barts security feed,” Sherlock said, stepping back to look at their handiwork. “When it’s stolen each time, I’ll be able to get it back quickly and efficiently, and you won’t be bothered.”

Molly gaped at him. “You _want_ it to be stolen?” she asked incredulously.

He nodded. “And I will give each perpetrator or group of perpetrators a stern talking to about wasting your precious time. It may be tradition, but it’s bothersome to you. I have time on my hands, and I’ll deal with it.”

“All right, I suppose,” she said. This was going to be an interesting change in things, she thought. She just hoped the retaliation against Sherlock wasn’t _too_ bad. After all, this was a tradition.

__

**~~~**

She saw Sherlock sitting at her desk, a phalanx bone sitting in front of him. “Sherlock?”

“Do you realize only a third of that skeleton is actually plaster?” he said. “If even that. I’d wager it’s closer to a quarter. Maybe a fifth.” He picked up the phalanx bone, pointing it at her. “Some of the jokers in the sexual health department decided to have some fun and this part fell off. I may have ripped them a new one and ensured they had no thoughts of trying again.”

“Oh, Sherlock, don’t you think you might be going a bit...overboard?” she asked, tilting her head.

“They were discussing coming down here to, and I quote, ‘borrow a John Doe.’”

Her eyes widened and she grabbed the bone from him. “Bastards.”

He gave her a slightly smug look. “Should I ask my brother to increase security here in the morgue?”

“Yes please.” She glanced at the door, then went back and locked it, pulling the shade down on the window, then sat in his lap, curling into him.

“So we’re still secret?” he asked.

She nodded. “It’s best,” she said.

“I know,” he said before leaning in to kiss her softly.

**~~~**

She heard squishy footsteps and turned, looking with wide eyes at her office door. “Sherlock?” she asked when the door opened.

“The cardiovascular department booby-trapped it,” he said through gritted teeth. He took the skeleton and nearly tossed it onto the cot in her office before slinging his sopping wet Belstaff on the floor. “The showers...frigid water...” He glared at the skeleton. “I’ll murder the lot of them. And get away with it.”

“I’ll help,” she said, moving over to him and helping him get his shirt unbuttoned. His arms were dry but his chest was soaked. She had scrubs that should fit him in the supply closet. “You are soaked through and through.”

“No kidding,” he groused, his teeth chattering slightly as he moved her hands from his shirt to take over.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll move the skeleton and you can get on the cot and warm up.”

He thought about it. “Only if you join me,” he said as heat filled his eyes.

She grinned up at him, and then ran a finger over the waistband of his trousers. “I could be persuaded to take a bit of a break,” she said.

“Excellent,” he said, grinning.

**~~~**

There was a crash outside the swinging doors that startled Molly, almost to the point where she ruined her incision, and she dropped her scalpel on the body she was autopsying and hurried outside to see Sherlock doubled over, holding onto a wheelchair where the skeleton was sitting, and a burly nurse sauntering away towards the service lift. “Sherlock!” she called out. She ran over to him as he straightened up. She saw he had a cut lip and the beginning of a black eye. “Did that arsehole punch you?”

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “How important is this sodding tradition?”

“What happened?” she asked.

“He was trying to take the skeleton out of Stamford’s office and I caught him,” Sherlock said. “I managed to keep it.”

“That’s enough of this nonsense,” Molly said, putting an arm around his waist. “You know, we _could_ keep it in John’s old bedroom.”

“The skeleton?” he asked, leaning into her.

She nodded. “No one would be idiotic enough to break into your flat.”

He thought about it. “It may need an extra guard.”

“I’ll stay overnight till the party,” she said.

He moved his head, pressing a kiss into her hair. “Good,” he said.

**~~~**

She sipped at the punch in her orange dress with the green bow. No costumes were allowed this year, just in case any of them got called off to their post, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t attempt a bit of festiveness. The skeleton was sitting in Stamford’s office, being guarded by two of Scotland Yard’s finest after some idiot from endocrinology had attempted to break into the flat to filch it. The arrival of a naked Sherlock wielding a cricket bat and her right behind wrapped in a sheet was not a sight that he'd expected but...oh well. “It’s still there, right?” she asked Sherlock.

“All wrapped up in a bright orange bow,” Sherlock said. “Donovan already got to taze three people. She’s happy.” He sipped the punch, making a face. “Stamford owes you. The whole hospital knows about us now.”

She shrugged. “So?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “You don’t mind the secret being out?”

She set down her punch, grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him in for a kiss. He grinned against her lips and she knew he understood she didn’t care that others knew now. She was quite happy with how things had turned out.


End file.
